The Placing of Blame
by Bunny MacCool
Summary: Eventual Zoro/Sanji: The placing of blame in a bad situation, wherein two men who barely consider themselves friends will have to learn to depend completely on each other.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: The Placing of Blame  
**Pairing**: Eventual ZoSan  
**Rating**: PG-13 so far ... for language mostly  
**Dislaimer**: SO don't own. SO wish I did.  
**Warnings**: None that I can think of.

**CHAPTER ONE**

~*~*~*~*~*~  
There was a bump at his back that he wasn't expecting, but it caused him no great alarm. He could recognize the presence of each of his nakama blindfolded and half asleep by now, so the stupid love-cook's back meeting his in the middle of a battle was nothing new. The blonde seemed to almost sag for a minute, though, which wasn't a good sign. He was tiring. Zoro supposed he was beginning to feel the wear of the fight as well, after all, it had been like this for over two hours. Swarms and swarms of marines coming out of the woodwork like an angry hive of bees. They'd been lying in wait, he guessed, using this small winter island as a trap for pirates.

Behind him he heard, and felt, Sanji crack open a Marine's head with a kick. At least the pervert still had some bite to his bark, maybe they could actually get out of this mess. He'd lost sight of the rest of the crew ages ago. Couldn't even hear Luffy's battle cries any longer. This was either a good thing, and they'd all escaped, or a bad thing and they'd all been overwhelmed.

Stupid cook. He had TOLD the man to get the rest of them back to the ship. He'd TOLD him he would take care of things here and meet up with them later. What's a few thousand Marines, anyway? Sanji stumbled a bit behind him, only barely catching himself from being stabbed.

_Shit_.

It had to be this day of all days, hadn't it? The Going Merry had come through a merciless storm the night before and none of its crew had slept a wink. They were overtired, underfed (except for Luffy) and not at their peak. Naturally, to Zoro, situations like this were his favorite… it was in near desperate times that he always managed to find the ability to step it up just one more notch and become more powerful. He thrived on these moments. The same could not be said of his nakama, however.

Sharp pain in his arm, and dammit, he needed to quit thinking and get back to surviving. Clean slice, barely a flesh wound, nothing big. He chanced a quick glance behind him. Marines as far as he could see. Wonderful. And a sweaty, bloody blonde head that was starting to droop.

_Damn. Damn. Double damn._

Building his energy he performed the strongest slash he could muster and sent twenty or so Marines flying backwards. He was already in motion to turn and grab the cook, make a run for it, when the familiar sensation of sharp metal piercing his body struck like lightening. Zoro froze. There was nothing in front of him, so what…

He looked down. The bloody, business end of a long blade was protruding from his belly. His first thought was 'who's the damn coward that stabbed me from behind?' The next was '…and why didn't the cook stop them?' Then he had a realization. Sanji's warm back was still pressed against his own. Not good. Not good. He tried to turn, and sure enough the body behind him turned as well.

_Shit_.

The marines around them had slowly stopped advancing.

_Shit_.

A violent cough came out of nowhere and he watched in morbid fascination as his own blood flew out of his mouth and spattered on the ground before him.

_Shit. Shit._

Sanji's knees apparently buckled and threatened to take him down as well.

_SHIT. SHIT. SHIT._

The sword was painfully pulling at him as the man at his back began to collapse. A couple of marines moved in closer and regretted the action mere seconds later. That's right jerkoffs, a wounded tiger can still bite. He felt the cook tense slightly behind him and turned just in time to slash at the man attempting to grab Sanji.

An eerie silence filled the air. All he could hear was his own ragged breathing and Sanji's gurgling coughs behind him. Every once in a while the cook seemed to whisper something, but the new ringing in Zoro's ears prevented him from making it out. Warm lifeblood ran in rivers down his legs, and mixed with Sanji's to run down his back. The cook lost his battle to stay upright and dragged Zoro down to land painfully hard on his tailbone. The sword that pinned them together was jarred by the impact and he nearly passed out at the pain.

Another soldier tried to step forward and gained a new scar to impress the ladies. Despite all the bravado he was showing on the outside, however, Zoro was beginning to panic a little internally. He couldn't think of a way to get out of this. The cook was either dead or dying behind him, the others were nowhere to be seen, and his vision was steadily going dark.

Stupid blood loss. Always made the fight harder. The stillness was really starting to get to him, too. No one was moving now. He felt like part of some crazy sideshow act, all the people just milling around staring. He couldn't hear any other battles being fought nearby, which he hoped was a good sign.

_Please have let them get away. Please say they got away._

He coughed again and realized that his hands had dropped to the ground. Well, damn, so much for the wounded tiger. Taking advantage of the slumped body behind him, Zoro allowed his head to fall back and rest on one of the cook's shoulders. He stared at the pretty azure sky above and smiled when tiny snow flakes began to fall.

Figures. Finally gonna get caught by the Marines and it's all the damn love-cook's fault. He cut his eyes to the side to stare at the man in question. Stupid pervert. We're sitting here like a friggin' pirate-kabob and it's all his fault. The blonde's visible eye was closed and there was a river of blood running from his mouth. His fault. A sudden irrational fear that he might actually be dead struck Zoro. He opened his mouth to speak around the thick, coppery syrup within.

"Ne, Sanji…"

There was a cough and the one blue eye opened a fraction to look at him. Zoro smiled. Still alive then.

" … you know this is all your fault right?"

And then the world went black.

~*~*~*~*~

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: The Placing of Blame – Chapter 2  
**Pairing**: ZoSan  
**Rating**: R – for swearing. They ARE pirates after all!!  
**Dislaimer**: SO don't own. SO wish I did.  
**Summary**: The placing of blame in a bad situation, wherein two men who barely consider themselves friends will have to learn to depend completely on each other.  
**Warnings**: None that I can think of.

**Chapter TWO**

**  
xoxoxoxoxox**

Stupid. Idiotic. Foul, annoying, brainless swordsman. Really. The man was a few peas short of a pod. If there was one thing Sanji knew about Zoro, it was that the moment he sensed a fight on the horizon, it was almost guaranteed that the man would be diving headfirst into the middle of the fray and forgetting other things that may be SLIGHTLY more important. Say, perhaps… the other people around you? What if something had happened to Nami-swan or Robin-chwan because of the swordsman's actions?

I'd boil him alive, is what. With some sage, some rosemary, and perhaps some spicy chili sauce to disguise the toughness of the meat.

The cook landed a kick square between the eyes of yet another Marine and continued grumbling to himself. Leave it to Zoro to screw everything up. All they'd needed to do was run back to the ship, as a group, and fight the attackers surrounding the Going Merry. They could have already been sailing away to freedom by now. But no. NO! A couple hundred Marines cresting over the hill, and the damn seaweed-head says "get everyone back to the ship" then dives in. Well, naturally, Luffy will want to fight, too. Sanji will feel obligated to back him up. Usopp and Chopper will high-tail it back to the ship. Nami will freeze in the middle trying to determine the best course of action. Robin won't move and inch and simply start 'clutching' men with her blossoming arms.

So they splintered off. And now Sanji found himself alone. Couldn't be helped, he supposed. The sheer number of attackers swept over them like a river and drifted the nakama apart from each other. The cook cursed loudly when the slash of a sword nearly connected. One swift round-house kick and two more Marines were filling a recently vacated spot. It wasn't even possible to pause for a second and determine his surroundings. Gah! When he saw that swordsman again…

As if fate was peeking into his inner thoughts, a familiar battle cry drifted towards him. Zoro was close. Taking a guess at the direction, Sanji took the closest Marines by surprise when he barreled right into them at a full sprint. It only took a moment to make out some recognizable katanas slashing through the air, and another moment later he was back to back with the man he'd been cursing for the last couple hours. Now, Sanji would never admit it out loud, but a great sense of relief washed over him. He'd found somebody. And it was a somebody that might take some of the pressure off him for a bit and let him recoup. The dash to find a nakama had proven to him just how tired he was becoming.

Sanji sagged against the familiar back and felt it stiffen. Not because it didn't know him, but more like because it was worried. The cook normally didn't 'sag'. It was undignified to 'sag' in front of ladies. He was only given a brief respite, however, before it was necessary to defend himself again.

Damn this situation. Damn that storm last night. Damn the stupid fool behind him. Damn it. Damnit. Dammit.

Sweat streamed into his eyes and Sanji reflexively blinked it away. A simple motion, but it nearly caused him to loose an arm. He stumbled sideways a little, and missed another swing by a fraction. This was getting bad. His eyes were burning now, and the world in turn was getting a little blurry. For a second Zoro seemed to still behind him, then come back to life with a mighty attack. Sanji tried to blink the sweat out of his eyes again.

Suddenly there was a great pain in his belly. He looked down. What on earth was a sword doing there? The world around him froze and intense agony blossomed from the wound like wildfire.

Oh. Damn.

The world tilted sideways. How odd. Then Zoro coughed violently behind him and the feel of it echoed through Sanji's body. It seemed to snap him back to himself. He'd been run through! Zoro was back-to-back with him! They'd been run through, together!

Oh. Damn.

Sanji felt his knees starting to give way. Zoro cursed behind him, but the cook was just too fascinated with the sword hilt protruding from his stomach. His mouth filled with warmth, and he didn't even attempt to stop the blood from spilling past his lips. A quick motion to his right caused him to stiffen, but a katana appeared from behind him to stop the advancing Marine.

Suddenly, he was just very, very weary. He didn't register the coughing fit spasming his body, or the man behind him trying to protect them in weakening desperation. He just wanted to sit down. Just sit. Maybe sleep a little. Unbeknownst to him, he'd even begun mumbling under his breath just exactly what he thought about swordsmen with ridiculously green hair.

Oh, hey… now the ground was much closer. Lucky! He wasn't even sure how that had happened, but his legs were stretched out before him, and there was a warm, solid pressure at his back for him to lean upon. Must be time to sleep then. Closing his eyes, Sanji let his chin rest upon his chest and tried to heave a mighty sigh. However, it only resulted in a gurgle and a new river of warmth flowing from his mouth.

An unfamiliar weight landed upon his right shoulder and someone spoke his name.

"Ne, Sanji…"

It took a monumental effort just to open his eye a fraction, but when he did it met a dark gaze only inches from his own. A dark gaze from tired, red eyes and then a smile from bloody, crooked grin.

" … you know this is all your fault right?"

And suddenly he was wide awake. Snapped to alertness and instantly aware that Zoro had just passed out, or possibly died, on his shoulder and that there were more Marines than he could count slowly inching in closer to them. The rest of his nakama were nowhere to be seen, and he had a bloody, gaping hole (with sword attached) in his belly.

Well . . . damn.

Reaching into his pocket, the cook pulled out a slightly crumpled cigarette, placed it between his lips and flicked his lighter to life. Tucking the small case back into his pocket, he took a long drag, and then allowed his own head to fall back and rest against the broad shoulder behind him.

"Idiot, brain-dead swordsman … this is all YOUR fault."

**xoxoxoxoxox**

**TBC**…


End file.
